42. Ryan
CHAPTER 42
RYAN
D espite most of the team being completely hungover, practice isn’t terrible, and the mood in the locker room afterward is relaxed. Even Malcolm, who’s usually a grump, is in good spirits. Maybe he got laid last night.
I’m in the process of removing my gear when Banksy exclaims, “Holy shit!”
“What is it?” Jake asks from across us.
I lean closer to look at Banksy’s phone… and feel like I’ve been cross-checked against the boards by a bulldozer. “What the actual fuck!” I take the phone from his hand and watch a video of our shenanigans in Malcolm’s office last night. “Who sent you this?”
“A buddy from college. Is that shit real?”
I need to watch only a few seconds of the video to determine it was recorded by a hidden camera in Malcolm’s office.
“You son of a bitch.” I toss Banksy’s phone back to him before I fly across the room and punch Malcolm’s face.
His head jerks back with a loud and satisfying crunch before he loses his balance and falls on his ass. He touches his bleeding nose then looks at me, stunned. “What the fuck has gotten into you, asshole?”
“ I’m the asshole? You had a hidden camera in your office and leaked the video from last night to the tabloids!”
He jumps to his feet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
I curl my hands into fists, ready to punch the living shit out of him. “Don’t give me that bullshit. Why did you do it? To steal Jake’s job? Is that it?”
“Where the fuck do you think you are? A dive bar?” Coach Haagen gets between us.
By now, everyone in the room has their attention glued to their phones. “Stop watching it!”
Lachy’s expression is the deadliest I’ve ever seen. His eyes sparkle with fury as he strides in Malcolm’s direction. He’s going to finish the job I started, and I’m not going to stop him.
Banksy jumps in front of him. “Calm down, buddy.”
“Get out of my way, lad, or yer getting it too.”
“Can someone explain what the hell is going on here?” Coach Haagen looks from me to Malcolm.
Jake walks over. His face is a stony mask, the only thing betraying his emotions is the dark storm in his eyes. He gives Coach his phone without saying a word. Not one makes a pip, and you could hear a pin drop. Thankfully, the video has no sound.
Coach Haagen watches only a few seconds of the footage before returning the phone to Jake. He looks at Malcolm and asks in a cold voice, “Did you leak that video?”
“I didn’t do anything. And I didn’t install a hidden camera in my office. I swear it.” He looks confused, and I never pegged him as a deceitful guy. But then his eyes seem to sparkle with realization, and I bet he’s thinking what I am. If he didn’t put that camera there and leak the video, then his wife did.
“Damn it, Wendy,” Malcolm murmurs.
Coach Haagen narrows his eyes. “Deal with your wife, Wagner. I will not allow anyone’s personal vendetta to affect my team. Am I clear?”
Malcolm stands straighter. “Don’t worry, Coach. This won’t happen again.” He glances at Jake. “I’m sorry about the video, T-man.”
Of course the asshole would apologize only to Jake. He’s the official boyfriend, but fuck that. Not anymore. “What about my apology, and Lachy’s?”
Malcolm arches his brows. “Sure. I’m sorry. I don’t see how this affects you much. You’re just the extras.”
“Yer wrong, arsehole. We aren’t the extras. June is our lass, and if you or anyone else here says a bloody thing about her, you’ll have to deal with us. Do ye hear me?”
Total silence descends in the locker room. I’ve never seen my teammates more shocked than they are today.
“I asked you a question,” Lachy says again, louder this time.
“Yes,” everyone replies in unison.
The tension in the room slowly disperses. Not for me, and I bet not for Jake and Lachy either. There’s a video of our lovemaking with June circulating online. How long until she sees that?
Coach Haagen looks at Malcolm. “Go get your nose checked. It looks broken.” Then he turns to us. “I want to see you three in my office right now.”
“She’s not answering her phone,” Lachy pipes up. I didn’t notice when he took his phone out to call her.
Jake looks our coach dead in the eye and says, “Sorry, Coach. This conversation will have to wait.”
“Damn everything to hell!” Jake shouts. “Where the fuck is Melissa?”
We’ve been trying to reach her and June since we left the training facility. Doug has no idea where his boss is, but he assured us the entire team was focused on damage control. I don’t doubt the guy, but Melissa is the best, and we need the best. She’d better have a good reason to be blowing us off.
My phone pings, and quickly I check if it’s a message from June.
“Who was that?” Lachy turns in his seat.
“It’s Katrina. She finally replied to my message on Instagram.”
It never occurred to us to get June’s best friend’s phone number, and now we realize what a colossal mistake that was.
“And?” Jake asks.
“She says June went home when she saw the video. That was at lunch time.”
“It’s already the middle of the afternoon. Why didn’t she call us?” Lachy asks in a panicked voice.
“Hold on. Katrina is giving me the details of what happened.”
While I wait for Katrina to update me, we pull into our garage. She finally sends me a long-as-shit message that I read while marching to our elevator.
“And? What did she say?” Lachy asks.
“She said June was upset and insisted on going home alone, and she hasn’t heard from her since.”
“Fuck the elevator. I’m taking the stairs.” Jake sprints toward the stairwell door, and we follow.
Taking the steps two at a time, we reach June’s floor in less time than the elevator would have taken. Jake has the spare key to her apartment in his hand, but he knocks on the door first.
“June, are you there?”
Winston barks, then we hear his paws approach the door. But there’s no reply from June.
“Fuck it. I’m going in.” Jake opens the door, and we all rush into June’s apartment.
Winston jumps, thinking it’s a party, and when he fails to get our attention, he follows us into June’s bedroom. All the shades are shut, and everything is dark.
“June?” Jake calls her, then turns on the light.
She’s not on her bed, but the shower is running in the bathroom. We find her sitting on the stall’s tiled floor, hugging her legs.
“Peaches...” I breathe out.
Her face is down and hidden, and she doesn’t acknowledge our presence. The sight kills me. We did this to her. If we had controlled our urges in public, this wouldn’t have happened.
We can’t all fit in the shower stall, and since Jake walked into the bathroom first, he goes to her and turns off the water before dropping into a crouch. Caressing her arm, he pleads, “June, look at us.”
She finally lifts her face, and my heart shrivels into nothing. Her eyes are red and puffy, but it’s her broken expression that drives a steely knife into my chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I... I tried, and couldn’t.”
“It’s okay, honey. We’re here now. It’ll be okay,” Jake replies softly.
A sob escapes her lips, and she breaks down in front of us. Jake pulls her into his arms and gets her off the floor. Her entire body is shaking as she clutches him. Undiluted rage explodes in the pit of my stomach and spreads through my veins like wildfire. I see the same emotion shining in Jake’s eyes. Wendy fucking Wagner is dead.